Oneshot: This Girl
by Flying By Wire
Summary: Based on A Dab of Frost and A Cup of Stars. "They say that happy girls are the prettiest, right? So why am I so drawn to the one girl that looks downright miserable?" JackxOC-ish oneshot. Don't like, don't read. That simple. Rated T for language and self-harm/stuff like that.


**Alright another oneshot!**

**So I was at my cousin's senior presentation last night, and someone brought up a quote that was "The happy girls are the prettiest." Now, for some reason that just didn't sit well with me at all. So if a girl is unhappy then she's considered downright ugly or what? To be considered pretty she has to be happy no matter what?**

**I felt like this was considered a self esteem stab in the back to those girls (guys if you prefer) who aren't exactly happy with their situation. me included. It's like... Gee, thanks, now I have to just forget every little bad thing in my life just so you people think I look pretty? No! Fuck that! A girl is "pretty" whether she's unhappy or not. Sure, she'd probably prefer to be happy but still! Idk...does this even make any sense to you people?**

**Anyway... This oneshot's a different take on the first chapter of A Dab of Frost, which is when Jack and Taylor officially met.**

**Now this... This is what would've happened if things didn't turn out so well. Jack is never assured on whether Taylor can see him or not, and he approached her later than in A Dab of Frost.**

**This should still be okay for first-time readers of my stories, so no worries.**

**On with the oneshot**

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**Oneshot: RoTG: A Dab of Frost/ A Cup of Stars**

**This Girl**

They say that happy girls are the prettiest, right?

So why am I so drawn to the one girl that looks downright miserable?

Who the hell even came up with that saying anyway? It's ridiculous.

Ever since I saw her sitting alone in the snow, I've kept an eye on her. I didn't know her name, how old she was, or if she believed in me. But I felt like if I just let her be then something could happen to her, so I kept close.

But I never went too close… Even if I did have believers now, I'll always be afraid of being walked through again. I felt some kind of connection toward this girl- whether I wanted to believe it or not- and for some reason… I feel like if she walked through me, if I was invisible to her after all, I couldn't take it.

But who cares if I never learn anything about her aside from what little I already now and feel? Why am I still even here with her? Why can't I stop talking to myself?

… Fuck this. I'll do what I want.

And so here I am. Sitting on a tree branch and watching the mysterious girl below me as she stared blankly at the snow.

She always looked sad doing just about everything she did, but she seemed… Different, when looking at the snow. Maybe not exactly happy, but it was the one thing she didn't seem sad doing.

I wanted to talk to her, to find out who she was, what she liked to do, how she really felt when she watched the snow like an artist memorizing their works in the canvas that was their imagination. It was like… Like she knew the snow was really someone else's doing and not whatever chemistry of the world people used to explain its beauty.

Eventually, I got bored of just watching from afar and gradually inched closer and closer every time she came outside (which was almost everyday anyway) until I was sitting just two feet away from her on a daily basis.

Sometimes she'd flinch when I came close, as if knowing I was there beside her. Other times she'd start to mutter things under her breath; things like "Why?" or "It's not true… It's not" and things of the like. Why what? What's not true? What's she so afraid of…?

Afraid. Fear. Alone.

Maybe that's what's drawn me to her. But still… If that phrase is true, I'd like to see the way she looks when she's happy. Just a smile would be enough to satisfy.

I wanted to do everything in power to see that smile, but I wasn't sure if I'd just wind up scaring her if I tried and then I'd probably never see her again.

I'd never see those brown, hazel-tinted eyes shine.

I had to try. There had to be something I could do. Something simple…

I blinked and shuffled my feet until I was gradually moving up in front of her. It was like she knew I was there… She pulled back and averted her eyes, sinking her ungloved hands into the snow, not even flinching at its coldness.

I narrowed my eyes at her and leaned in closer.

"Can you… See me?"

Whether the answer would've been yes or a continued unaware silence, I'd never know. The girl scrambled to her feet, nearly falling over in the process when her dark, reddish-brown hair obscured her view of the world and she ran as quickly as her legs would allow.

"Hey! Wait!"

I jumped to my feet and flew after her. Her hands were over her ears as if trying to block everything out, her hair flying about in the air like waves.

Something was wrong… But I couldn't figure out what it was. Could she really see me? Was she just crazy? Did she remember something horrible?

We were coming closer and closer to a house that she seemed to be steering to. Without so much as slowing down, she swung the door open and ran inside, slamming it shut behind her just as I touched down on the doorstep.

"Hey! Wait a second! Are you okay? Answer if you can hear me!" I hammered my fist on the door, still getting no response. I pressed my ear against the hard surface, hearing panicked footsteps become more and more faint as they edged away and… Ascended?

Her bedroom.

I flew away from the useless door and found a window facing the street. There she was, sitting on the edge of a bed with her head in her hands.

Was this my fault? I hope not.

Happy girls are the prettiest, right?

So then… Why can't I turn away from this distraught girl? Something deep down inside of me was saying "Try again. She sees you and you know it. Save her future."

Future? What was she going to do?

Millions of horrifying scenarios went through my mind when she stood from the bed and pulled the curtains across the window, blocking my only view of knowing she was still safe.

I couldn't get in the house. Not without scaring her. So I waited.

I sat on the window sill and waited for hours, hoping she'd pull back the curtains and I could see her again. But no; it never happened.

I waited till dawn the next day. Still nothing. Maybe she was just asleep…

So I left; there was nothing I could do. For days after, she'd stopped coming outside to look at the snow. The house was quiet and dark.

I guess I did get to see her brown, hazel-tinted eyes shine though.

Only… It was out of fear.

That was the last thing I'd wanted to happen; a beautiful, lonely girl scared out of her mind.

A few days later I saw people dressed in black around her house. Maybe the girl was so upset before because she'd lost someone important.

At this point… I'd been wishing that instead of what I was really seeing.

The girl was there, where the people in black had gone; she was as pale as me and someone had put makeup on her. In my opinion, she didn't need any makeup, she looked just fine without all that. She was sitting rather comfortably in a box that all the people in black were gazing upon with the utmost sorrow.

Because she had died.

I heard the people talking about the method. Suicide by slitting the wrists. From what I could make out, it was with a hot washcloth, a broken lamp, and the buildup of pent back sadness, pain, and loneliness.

I wonder if I could've saved her by talking to her sooner, or by being more careful about how I went about it. Or would it have all been a waste if she couldn't even see me to begin with?

She _could _see me. It was something I'd known longer than I thought I did. And I was stupid for not realizing it sooner.

I feel like… Like if we'd actually spoken to each other- had a real conversation- we could've been something; we could've done something great together.

I don't know what, but a scenario was playing in my head as I looked at the body of the girl in the casket. A scenario of fun, adventure and love. Tragedies but determination to fight them back. A family, even.

I never did get to see her smile.

She didn't have to smile or be happy to be the prettiest girl, she was a beautiful little tragedy in my eyes. But still…

She would probably look even more beautiful happy.

Are happy girls the prettiest? I can't say.

Honestly I'd have to say they're pretty either way.

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**Alright, so...good? Bad? I don't really know with this one.**

**If it gets a shit ton of negative feedback then I'll just take it down, meh. I only wrote it when I got the idea after I saw the quote.**

**REVIEW BEFORE FAVING/HATING PLEASE**

**If you want, I guess.**

**If you did like it for some reason and haven't read anything else of mine that you want to, then you can go on and check out A Dab of Frost and its sequel, A Cup of Stars. There are other oneshots on here based off of them, but they're not as simple as this one so you'd probably have to get to know the characters more before reading them.**

**thanks**


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